


Runaway (From Your Smile)

by Darkravenwrote



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Knight Bus, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prisoner Draco Malfoy, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkravenwrote/pseuds/Darkravenwrote
Summary: Draco wasn’t expecting escaping from prison to be the easy part. Turns out the getaway is just as nerve wracking.Written for Prompt2019.Prompt 1st Jan: Liberty





	Runaway (From Your Smile)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 2019 is a personal thing, not a fest or event being hosted. Don't worry, I won't clog up your AO3 feed though. I'll only be posting full oneshots here. Or if this works well, some longer fics will randomly have prompts on some chapters.
> 
> Anyway, I'm trying to get back into fandom and writing. SO here's to 2019.  
> Happy New Year, all!!!

Draco decides he has been slightly naive to think escaping the prison would be the hardest part. While it's true that Wizarding Britain's new  _ humane _ prison -- laughably called Fortress -- is nothing compared to Azkaban in terms of security, it had still been no picnic getting out.

Months worth of planning and innumerable deals with other prisoners later find Draco finally breathing fresh air, but he's miffed to find that freedom actually brings about more stress than the attempt itself.

It is strangely surreal to be standing on a patch of grass beside a dark muggle road in the middle of nowhere with no idea where he is, and feel more lost than when he was scaling down a turret. Or more nervous than all the times he spent sat plotting in his cell to pass the time hoping a guard wouldn't look in or a charm wouldn't do a random security sweep.

Not once did he consider that he would need more of a plan than 'get out' and 'go'. Not once did he think about who he should call upon afterwards. Who he could trust. Who would help him even if they _were_ trustworthy. Who might even have the means -- plenty of gossip from newer inmates says most pureblood families have little to no assets beyond basic living conditions. The world has changes in the seven years he has been away.

He has time on his side at least. Mercifully, no alarms went off during his escape, which logically means he has until the morning location charm does its sweep at 9AM before anyone knows he is missing.

He wonders if something as simple as summoning the knight bus might be his best bet. He has a wand that was stolen from some poor soul in Diagon and smuggled to him. Using someone else's wand to apparate is ill-advised at the best of times, and casting with it generally could get him caught if it has been reported to the relevant Ministry department. If he can only use it once before ditching it he should save it for the future. The last he heard tracking knight bus summoning was decreed illegal, but that doesn't mean it never happens. Besides, it would create witnesses who could place him wherever he disembarks. His prison uniform could be misconstrued as a casual workwear is he tore off the M332 patch stitched on the breast pocket, but anyone already on the bus would know where he was picked up anyway.

Which leaves him still standing on a random patch of grass in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night with no idea what to do.

In the end, he takes out the springy elm wand to consider it at the same time as a pigeon rustles in a bush off to his right. It takes flight suddenly and he momentarily loses his balance. The knight bus is there before he realises how close to the road he is.

He should use the wand and then get rid of it as soon as possible on the other end, he thinks as he climbs up the back steps of the giant purple monstrosity.

The fates, it seems, are intent on enacting instant karmic justice for his breakout though. As he's rummaging around in his trouser pocket for the coins he's been saving under his mattress the last year, he glances up at the conductor shuffling into view.

"Welcome to the--" Harry Potter says, before stopping comically with his mouth agape. Draco fairs no better himself -- he promptly drops three knuts to the metal floor where they clang loudly. One rolls off the bus entirely. They both watch it 'ding, ding' its way down the steps and roll slowly across the tarmac.

Potter blinks back up at him, then his gaze diverts towards the horizon to where Fortress is hidden in darkness. And he very well should know where it is in his sleep -- and exactly who should be residing there -- as he spearheaded the humane imprisonment act eight and a half years ago that got Azkaban shut down or renovated or whatever it was they did to it after they shipped Draco and his kind out.

"Errrr," Potter says eloquently.

"A ticket, please," Draco asks, as sweetly and politely as he can, because he can't very well say, 'yeah, I just broke out of your fancy prison and you're my getaway vehicle'. "The Leaky Cauldron, if you please." He pointedly doesn't smile like he would to his mother as a child when asking for something cheeky, because that would probably be taking it too far.

Potter frowns at him, like he can't compute the request. Draco would normally make a jab about being brain dead but he's already asking quite a lot of Mr Goody-two-shoes -- an impossible amount, in fact. Draco's rather surprised Potter hasn't laughed him all the way back to the gate.

They stare at each other silently for what must be five minutes. Draco wonders how many cogs are turning in Potter's brain, or whether he's just so baffled by the situation that nothing's happening at all. Finally, a nasal witch from the next floor up yowls, "Get a bleeding move on!" and Potter jumps into action.

Draco startles with him and is pleasantly surprised when Potter pulls a ticket from the ancient, rusted machine hanging around his neck rather than shoving him off the bus and onto his arse.

He's so startled, in fact, that he says, "Errrr," in reply instead of 'thank you'. He takes the ticket gently without touching Potter's skin, just in case this is a dream and contact is what would break the illusion.

Honestly, Draco hasn't got much of a clue as to what exactly is going on, but he isn't about the look a gift-horse in the mouth. Even if Potter is taking him straight to the Auror's offices so they can question him about their security lapses, he supposes he had a good run -- better than anyone else for sure -- and there isn't much more he can do. Potter has seen him now. And he has a wand. Running at the moment would just make things infinitely worse in every possible scenario. And, he thinks as he eyes the beds, he could get a very good night's sleep on one of those plush mattresses before he's sent back to the nick come sunrise.

He realises he's been staring gormlessly down at his ticket for too long and shuffles past Potter, careful again not to touch him. You never know when people like Potter will decide to be unpredictable. He could still get grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown away.

The bus jerks into motion as he settles on a bed midway down the bus -- not close to the driver but also a comfortable distance from Potter, who hovers awkwardly at the back of the bus where Draco left him. He's quite obviously pretending not to be staring at Draco.

Draco would love some privacy, but there's at least one witch upstairs and he really should keep witnesses to a minimum, even if this is all about to be over one short bus ride later.

It occurs to him, as he's plumping his pillow and settling into the blankets, to ask what the fuck Potter is doing here in the first place. He almost bolts upright his is perplexion so sudden. He manages to bite his lip before he blurts out the question, but Potter must see it in his face somehow. It is the obvious question after all; Potter has no need of a night job. He works steadily for the Ministry and donates much of his free time to charities. People like Potter are supposed to be sleeping cosily in their beds at this time on a weeknight.

"Mabel's out with the flu," Potter says as he wafts past like a bad smell on his way to the first of the bus. "Ernie wouldn't have asked if he knew someone else who could do it." He shrugs and before Draco can ask more he turns his back dismissively.

Draco is casually ignored for the rest of the journey.

They stop once somewhere in Wales and Draco ducks under his covers as the witch from upstairs departs. She sniffs at Potter on the way out like he's an ordinary nobody bus conductor and not saviour of the Wizarding world, Wizarding rights activist and all-round good guy. Draco sneers at her from under his blanket.

He must fall asleep promptly after, because the next thing he knows a heavy hand is shaking him awake gently. Potter raises an eyebrow at him like they're old friends in their dormitory late for class.

"You understand, of course, that I'll have to report this to the Aurors, right?" he says as Draco slides his legs off the side of the bed.

"I'm surprised you haven't already." Draco looks around for his things before remembering that he doesn't have anything with him besides what's in his trouser pockets.

"I've been keeping up with your rehabilitation," Potter says in lieu of an answer as he escorts Draco to the back of the bus. His small smile seems suitably impressed. Draco wants to tell him that being a good inmate served him well for several reasons and his own moral development was not particularly high on the list. He doesn't though. Let Potter think him a saint if it helps him in the long run.

When they reach the steps, he's utterly baffled to find the Leaky Cauldron's sign swinging gently in the breeze above him and not a stern Ministry official with their wand at the ready.  


"The Auror offices open at seven," Potter warns him as Draco steps off the bus -- Draco feels like this is his second escape of the night, and this one was just as stressful as the first. Lower, Potter continues, "And ditch the wand if you want to make a good run of it."

So they do track knight bus wands against regulations. Draco feels smug at being correct rather than just paranoid. Before he can think better of it, he pulls the wand from his sleeve and flips it into the air, confident that Potter will catch it smartly. He does.

"I'm sure some randomer is missing it. Get it back to them would you?"

The smile Potter gives him as he turns away tells Draco perhaps Fortress rehabilitation has worked better on his moral compass than he would like to think.

Just so Potter doesn't get any ideas, he splashes a puddle back towards Potter as he leaves. Admittedly, most of the water ends up soaking his own trousers, but his point has been made.


End file.
